Amy Atwell - Lying Eyes

“He’s hot?”

“He could light ice on fire. And his accent?” Allie sighed. “Lethal.”

Cory grinned. “Was Iris freaking out?”

“Totally. Except then I tried to introduce myself and she shushed me up, and the next thing I knew, I was her cousin instead of her sister.” Allie still felt the sting of being disowned. It was humiliating. “I guess her relatives didn’t know about Daddy’s other wives.”

“That’s no excuse,” Cory said. “God, Iris can be such a bitch.”

Allie relaxed some more in her chair, prepared to let the whole matter go now that Cory had sided with her.

Cory was quiet for a few moments. “You didn’t come here to gloat about this morning?”

“I wouldn’t do that.” She straightened in her seat. “Look, I swear, I never had a clue she was your mom. I mean, I didn’t even know you existed until two days ago. I just went there this morning because I had a feeling…”

“And?”

Suddenly self-conscious, Allie shrugged. “I usually only have these premonitions with animals. They’re like images of what will happen. The only person I’ve ever been that connected to is Daddy, but ever since I met you and Iris-”

“Great, you’re getting some kind of closed captioning on my life.”

“No, that’s just it. I didn’t go there because I thought I’d see you. I went because I felt sure Daddy would show up there.”

Cory watched her. “Did you see him?’

“No. After you left, it felt too weird to stay. I paid up and went to campus.”

They looked across the table at each other in silence. Finally, Cory licked her lips then asked, “Was she a good babysitter?”

“Yeah. You know, as babysitters go. Not that I was a baby-I was eight when I met her. It’s just that Daddy had to start traveling more, and he wanted someone to stay at the house with me.”

Their gazes locked as they both realized their father would have had to spend more time with Cory after her mother left.

“So, she didn’t try to be a mom to you or anything?”

Allie snorted. “Now that would be a waste. My mom died when I was two. What do I know about how a mom should be?”

“But with Papa traveling so much-”

“He was home a lot when I was little. He always said it was just him and me. He’s the only family I’ve ever known. Oh, sure, there was Aunt Erna when I was a baby. And then there were all sorts of reliable sitters. Even the other moms in the neighborhood looked out for me. But the only family I’ve ever had is Daddy. Don’t you see what having sisters means to me?” Allie reached out her fingers.

“Don’t.” Cory laid her hands palm down on the table. “I’m not allowed to touch any of the players while I’m working.”

With a guilty expression, Allie pulled her hands back and clasped them before her.

A floor supervisor stopped in passing, his suit crisp as newly minted bills. “Everything all right, Miss Fortune?”

“Yes,” Allie answered, drawing a scowl from her sister. Allie dug in her pockets until she came up with a twenty dollar bill. “Let me try a hand.”

The supervisor rolled his eyes at such a tiny sum, but Cory quickly turned it into chips. With a shake of his head, the guy walked on to the next table.

“The curse of the job-it’s not very good for personal conversations. But I think I understand.” Cory’s expression softened, her dark eyes revealing insecurity that Allie could appreciate. “And I’m not mad at you. How could I blame you for-well, it was just awkward this morning. I thought I was prepared to see her, but I wasn’t.”

With surprise, Allie leaned forward. “You knew she’d be there?”

Cory dealt a hand. “Oh yeah. I learned she was back in Vegas about ten years ago.”

It was after five that evening when Foote opened the apartment building’s front door to usher Iris inside. “I could carry that for you.”

“No, thanks.” Iris juggled the box containing Edgar. “I want your hands free to defend me, just in case.” She’d been jumpy all afternoon, ever since she lost track of Jock and Pebbles.

And Mickey.

Foote looked at her in that earnest way he had. “Are you sure you saw those kidnappers there? I mean, you’ve been under a lot of stress.” He shut his mouth when she glared at him.

Hell, yeah, she’d been under some stress. Her father had gone missing three nights ago, she had new sisters, new cousins, ten stones from a family heirloom riding around on Edgar’s neck, she’d broken her engagement, been kidnapped-and her kidnappers were still stalking her.

“I saw them,” she said crisply as they exited the elevator.

Foote took her keys from her and let them into the apartment. “Will you wait here while I check it out?”

She nodded. Her nervousness was worse, and seeing Edgar’s ears at straight-up alert wasn’t helping. Foote made a circuit through the dining room and kitchen, then down the hall to the bedroom.

A male voice shouting “Freeze!” sent her heart leaping into her throat. Her eyelids slammed shut, and she stifled the scream that rose at the thought of anyone’s blood being spilled in her home.

When no gunshot cracked the silence, she sneaked an eyelid open. Foote didn’t have his gun aimed at anyone-he didn’t even have a gun in his hand. His hands were both reaching for the ceiling as he faced someone within the bedroom.

“You got me that time,” Foote said in a calm tone. He dropped his arms to his sides.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.” Mickey’s voice, full of irritation, carried from the bedroom. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you.”

Iris’s momentary relief at knowing he was safe was quickly routed by outrage that he’d broken into her apartment again and used it as a flophouse. Damn, why had she wasted even a minute worrying about him this afternoon!

Foote gave her a nod as he strode past. “I’ll wait outside.” He shut the front door with a soft click.

She dragged a hand through her loose curls. They must look like a disaster after the day she’d had. Mickey showed no sign of coming out of the bedroom, so she set the box on the floor and pulled Edgar from it. Deciding she could use some moral support, she carried the rabbit with her to confront her unwanted guest.

He lay on her bed, fully dressed, massaging his eyes with one hand.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised. Didn’t Hunter give you my message that I’d be lying low this afternoon?” He sat up, revealing his gun resting next to the pillow.

“He called Allie and she told me, but why would I assume you meant here?” In fact, she’d figured he’d wanted some time and space away from her. After all, what did he need her for? She didn’t have the gems, she didn’t know where her father was. There was no reason for him to continue to feign interest in her.

“Where else would I go?”

The ingenuousness of his question gave her pause. “Don’t you live somewhere?”

“Yeah, I do, whenever there’s not a killer staking out the place.”

Embarrassed, she realized she hadn’t considered that. She retreated to the living room, unsure what to do next.

Mickey followed, scrubbing his jaw. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and now he looked as scruffy and wild as he had that first time she’d seen him at the fundraiser. Even then, she’d suspected he was dangerous-she just hadn’t known the danger would be to her heart.

“Mind if I make some coffee?” He didn’t wait for an answer-not that he ever did-before he trod past her into the kitchen.

She tightened her hold on Edgar until the rabbit squirmed. “Oh, sorry, Eddy,” she whispered. She released him onto the carpet and watched him hobble-hop to the coffee table where he blinked at her a couple times. The collar around his neck reminded her that nothing over the past few days was turning out to be what she thought it was.